


forever can never be long enough for me

by katana_fleet



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:48:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22765006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katana_fleet/pseuds/katana_fleet
Summary: “Will you marry me?”Hope took a step back. “What?”“I love you and you’re freaking awesome and I want to marry you.”[5 times scott proposed to hope and 1 time hope proposed to scott]
Relationships: Hank Pym/Janet Van Dyne, Maggie Lang/Jim Paxton, Scott Lang/Hope Van Dyne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 56





	1. Impulse

**Author's Note:**

> title from 'marry me' by train. i own nothing related to the marvel cinematic universe aside from my never-ending love for van lang. if i did there'd be like 5 amatw movies by now. 
> 
> recently rewatched 'ant-man' and 'ant-man and the wasp.' so i pulled this out of the drafts folder and finished it. most of it is fairly terrible but it's done. pls enjoy :)

The first time Scott Lang proposed was… well, an accident.

He and Hope were at a really fancy restaurant, just scouting out the place to see if it was actually the hotbed of criminal activity she suspected it was.

“The scallops with rice, and the chicken parmesan for you. Can I get you anything else?”

“No, thank you—” Scott read the waiter’s name tag. “Mario, this looks fantastic. I think we’re all set.” Hope offered Mario a smile, and Mario disappeared into wherever waiters go until they’re needed. The kitchen, probably.

“I haven’t seen anything yet, but we can’t rule this place out yet.” Hope took a bite of her scallops.

Scott tried the chicken parmesan but didn’t take his eyes off Hope and wasn’t really sure if he got chicken in the bite or just breading. She was _beautiful_. “What is a scallop, anyway? Is it like a clam?”

“I think so. Just a little smaller. Do you want to try it?”

It looked slimy, so Scott shook his head in a decided _no don’t make me_. They sat in silence for a few minutes and watched the crowd.

The reverse-snap had been three months ago, so they really weren’t surprised that general criminal activity was starting up again. In a depressing example of true human resilience, people had gotten over the fact that their loved ones were back from the dead, some people had died from actual aging in the five years break, and children were grown up. So naturally someone had decided to revive some old quantum tech from who knows where and start making non-Pym-sanctioned suits.

The only time they’d seen real proof that this was happening was on a few ant-cameras near this place, so Scott had taken it upon himself to ask Hope on a date (an actual one that wasn’t burgers and training) with the added bonus of checking out the restaurant. They were wearing their suits under their fancy clothes and it was uncomfortable but also really exciting.

“Scott.” He zoned back in and followed Hope’s stare, almost immediately seeing what she’d noticed. Some of the employees had extra ear pieces, and all four of them looked incredibly shady.

He turned back to his chicken and pasta. “Can you tell what they’re doing?”

“No proof yet that they’re who we want. Let’s just stay and keep watching for a while.”

He nodded, set down his fork, and reached for Hope’s hand. “Should we sit here like really cheesy rom-com couples and just gaze at each other and let the food get cold?”

Hope laughed. She tried not to, he could tell, but still. She laughed for the fourth time since Tony’s funeral, which was almost three months ago. “I never thought about their food in those scenes. I always just think _come on, guys, get it together_. Don’t they have anything better to do than stare into each other’s eyes?”

He thought about saying something cheesy that would involve complimenting her (like _not if they look like you_ ) but it got to be too much for even the cheese-ball that he was. “How’s the food?”

“It’s good. A little squishy. Basically what I expected from the reviews.”

“You looked at the reviews?” He released her hand. His spaghetti was getting cold. He thought about his girlfriend for a moment. “Of course you did. God, I love you.” She grinned and tore a piece of her bread, handing him half. “I also love bread. Thanks, babe.”

“You’re welcome, _babe_.” She glanced back toward the sketchy people and her face went serious. “Scott, they’re gone.”

He thought back to their plan and said it out loud for the table uncomfortably close to them. “I’ll get the check, you go ahead to the bathroom.”

“I’ll meet you at the car.” She stood, gave her scallops a parting glance, and kissed him before disappearing into the back. He waved Mario down, got the check, and paid it in record time, grimacing as he stepped outside. Hopefully this job would somehow pay well, because neither of them could afford to keep doing dates like this.

He ran around the back of the restaurant, where shots were already ringing out. He pulled his fancy clothes off and shrunk, jumping onto Antoni IV just before he hit the ground. “Fly, Antoni!” Antoni, needing no such encouragement but chirping happily nonetheless, flew toward the sounds.

Hope was battling a few men who were just slightly too big to not have been enhanced by something quantum-y. He jumped off Antoni’s back and grew to match their size, immediately regretting his actions since they were evidently also on some super-soldier drug.

“What do you want?” Scott let out between punches. Him getting punched, not him punching others.

“To be the best!” That guy’s next punch was toward Scott’s nose. That would have hurt, if not for Scott shrinking and the man hitting the brick wall.

“The best what?” Hope asked. She had her arms wrapped around the neck of the tallest guy and was bringing him down like Westley and Fezzik in _The Princess Bride_.

The blond one sighed. Scott was having way more trouble than expected just landing a hit on the man. “Just—the best! Come on, guys, you get it!”

“You’re explaining nothing at all, but you’re messing with stuff you don’t understand,” he said. “How did you even get ahold of this stuff anyway?” The vial he’d swiped from Blondie’s jacket pocket was faintly teal rather than the red of Pym particles or bright yellow like the Yellow Jacket stuff.

“Give that back!” Within a few seconds of non-exposure to the blue stuff Blondie was back to normal size. Just as quickly, Hope brought down the other three men and knocked Blondie unconscious to join them.

Hope snorted, going through their pockets for the rest and dialing 911. “They’re ridiculous.” Scott was left standing with a vial of teal stuff, aching ribs, and nothing but admiration for the woman before him.

“Hey, Hope.” He had a crazy idea.

She whirled on her booted toes and faced him, scanning him for injuries. “What is it?”

“Will you marry me?”

She took a step back. “ _What_?”

“I love you and you’re freaking awesome and I want to marry you.”

The police interrupted their conversation, taking their statements, accepting the fact that they weren’t going to get much besides _they’re dangerous_ , and disappearing with four groggy men in tow. Scott and Hope were left alone behind the restaurant and they started walking back toward home, Hope almost running. He grabbed his fancy clothes and ran to catch up with the speed-walking Hope.

“Are you serious?”

“As I’ve ever been,” he said, trying to keep smiling. It was hard, talking and running.

She stopped on the sidewalk and he almost ran into her. “Have you really thought about it?”

“No, but I don’t need to to know that you’re the only person I want to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Scott…” she took a step forward and he braced himself. “I love you. I love you so, so much. But it’s too soon. Don’t you think? Thanos was three months ago. Before that you were stuck in the quantum realm for _five years_ and I was basically dead. Before that—”

“We’d been together for two months. It is kind of soon when you put it like that. But I’m sure.”

Hope rested her hand on his chest. “I know you are. But I’m not ready. Every night, I wake up sure that we’re all dead and I can’t plan for tomorrow yet when I don’t know how to…”

He took a step closer, pressing her hand to him and wishing that she wasn’t right. “We need to figure out how to live again.”

She nodded and finally took the last step forward and kissed him. “Plus, you don’t have a ring, do you?”

He almost managed to smile. “You know me. This was kind of spur-of-the-moment.”

She turned toward home again, reaching her hand behind her. He took her hand and squeezed, following where she led. “I’m not saying never, you know. Just… once we know how to live in this new world. And after we’ve actually talked about the future. _And_ when you have a ring. I do kind of like jewelry.”

He laughed and they wandered toward home.


	2. Rings

In a true demonstration of how odd life could be, Scott found himself at a cookout. This wouldn’t have been that weird, except that it was hosted by the rather strange parents of his beloved girlfriend, who he recently and unsuccessfully proposed to, and was attended by his ex-wife and her husband as well as the child he shared with said ex-wife.

Scott stood on the deck and stared out at the backyard. Cassie was having a wonderful time skipping between the adults, Maggie was attempting to talk to Hank and connect in something aside from mutual friends, Janet was in the kitchen looking out at all of them, and Paxton was staring out at the crowd of people he’d once attempted to arrest. It would have made him laugh, except for Hope.

Hope had been off since the morning after he’d proposed and she refused. Admittedly, it was a weird situation. But Scott was okay. Like… he’d meant it and always would, but she was completely right about literally everything she said, which he wasn’t just thinking because she was the boss. Partially, but not entirely.

Suddenly, Hope appeared, looping her arm through his, and he couldn’t help startling at her random approach when he’d thought she was inside with Janet. “Hey!” he said, reaching over to kiss her forehead.

“Hi,” she murmured, leaning her head on his shoulder. “You okay?”

“I’m great, really. Weather’s good, Paxton’s almost calm—did you see his face when Hank got out of the car? I thought he was going to have a conniption—and Cassie’s… Cassie.” Hope laughed, and they both stared at Cassie for a second. Cassie had somehow taught one of the enlarged ants how to play catch, and he winced every time she was almost bitten by the overenthusiastic Antoni II. They kept an entire cupboard of Benadryl in case of bites, but it didn’t make him feel much better. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Hope nodded against his shoulder. “Tired. Mom looks worried, and she’s looking at you enough that I think she thinks we’re both dying.”

Scott turned enough to look at her face. She did look tired, but not enough that Janet should be particularly worried. But then, he guessed he had the front row seat to both of their nightmares, and he understood better why they were exhausted. It didn’t help that they both had some seriously impressive bruises from the fight the other night. “Want me to go talk to her? I can explain, what with the whole snap and superhumans and proposal—”

“Don’t,” Hope snapped. As quickly as she’d curled into him, she pulled away. “Please don’t, Scott.”

Before he could do anything more than attempt a “Hope!” she stepped off the deck and walked toward Cassie. He stared after her a minute, trying to figure out what he’d done aside from show concern for her wellbeing, which honestly was probably enough. Ah. Yeah, that was it.

Time to do exactly what Hope, the dearest and loveliest love of his life, said not to do. He was going to find Janet.

“Scott!” Janet called. He whirled around, somewhat surprised at her voice since he could apparently now summon people with his mind. “Help me with the food, dear.”

Maggie patted him on the shoulder as he passed, and Hank looked slightly less frustrated than usual, which could be attributed to watching Hope and Cassie playing with the ant rather than actual less anger with him. He wandered into the house. “Janet?”

Hope’s mom was waiting in the kitchen, as she had implied. However, there was no food nearby, showing an immediate lie. “There’s a casserole in the oven that needs another ten minutes,” Janet said, shrugging off his confusion. “You’ll carry it outside when it’s done. For now, I asked you in here to find out what’s wrong with my daughter.”

Scott blinked. This was a new situation. “I have a feeling that if this gets back to Hope, I’ll be very dead. And that would make Paxton and Cassie mad.”

Janet laughed, motioning toward the kitchen table. Scott sat. “I’ll take all the blame, dear.”

“Okay, then.” He launched into a very brief description of assorted nightmares, how he and Hope were rapidly becoming somewhere between mildly and wildly codependent, and closed with his proposal. “I know that she was right, I promise I do. We hadn’t even talked about it, even though I know she’s it for me and I haven’t pretended to ask Hank.”

“Don’t ask Henry, love, just let him think you’ve asked. Hope—”

“—will actually kill me if I ask for permission.” He motioned with a finger-gun toward his temple. “I don’t even have to ask to know that. So that’s that part, and also it’s definitely too soon after Thanos and everything. But I think she thinks that I’m more upset about it than I am, which I’m not even disappointed, because she’s the boss and it’s more of an honor than anything that she lets me nearby—” He ran out of breath and paused to obtain the oxygen. “Help me, Janet. You’re my only hope.”

Janet smiled, taking his hand and rubbing her thumb across his knuckles in a way that would almost be creepy if it were anyone but her. _She_ was the one he needed to ask for permission, come to think of it. “Have you told Hope any of this? How you know she’s right in the end? And then you two can actually discuss marriage.”

Scott nodded reluctantly. “That would probably be the smart thing to do.” He cocked his head at her. “Hope got her brains from you, I think, instead of Hank.”

She tapped the side of her nose, standing. “Take the casserole out when the timer goes off, Scott. Don’t forget the potholder.”

With that, she disappeared into the depths of the house. He stared at the oven timer. _5:06_. _5:05. 5:04._ Numbers. Looked too much like a bomb timer. He glanced away just in time to see Janet return, peer at the clock, and sit down across from him again. She held a small bag that she pushed across the table to nudge his hand.

He opened the bag (after holding it just long enough to ensure that it didn’t have any ants inside; this family has _scarred_ him) and found a large box. Starting to feel like a child on a scavenger hunt, he opened the box and gasped. “Pick whichever one you like,” Janet murmured. “I’ve kept all of the rings in our families, mine and my mother’s and Hank’s mother’s. Hope’s seen most of them but I don’t think she ever had a favorite. And you need to pick the one that speaks to you, anyway.” She pulled a smaller box out of her jacket pocket. “If you want to take one to give my daughter, you have our blessing, Scott.”

He glanced up at Janet, who just smiled with tears in her eyes, and Hank, who had miraculously appeared over her shoulder. Hank stepped up to the table to see the action, and his only reaction was a scoff. “The green one was my father’s, so not that one. Hope’s going to have to get your ring herself, Lang, I’m not giving you that one.” Scott dutifully picked out the green one and handed it to his disgruntled mentor, who exited the scene with a clap on his back that sent him reeling into the table.

Five minutes later, his heart was racing as he carried the casserole out to the small table on the deck, and it wasn’t just because the oven mitts he grabbed were really thin and he was burning the hell out of his fingers. It was because a ring box was burning its way through his jacket pocket, and when Hope saw him, she walked to him, waited for him to put the dish down, and completely distracted him from his sensitive fingertips with a kiss.

* * *

He took a single step into their bedroom that night before stopping dead in his tracks. Hope was in bed, reading a book, and her hair was literally everywhere. It was _magnificent_. He’d forgotten how almost curly it could get sometimes with the humidity. “Don’t laugh,” she muttered. _She_ was magnificent.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he said, hands in the air as he finished the trek to the bed. He tried to remember what he’d decided to say earlier while he pretended to watch Netflix while she was in the shower and decided to jump straight in. “You know that you were right about everything the other night, right?”

“What?” she asked warily, pressing a bookmark into her novel and setting it aside. She didn’t quite meet his eyes.

He sat down, wishing he’d taken his jacket off first. “About how it’s too soon after Thanos and the snap, and how we haven’t even talked about getting married, and I didn’t even have a ring? And especially how the world’s so different now and we haven’t even figured out how to be people in it yet? You’re right about all of it.”

Hope took a shaky breath and turned enough that her eyes met his. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I love you so much, Hope, and I’m not going to do anything that’ll make you uncomfortable.” He leaned forward and kissed her quickly.

She pulled away almost immediately. “I’m not _uncomfortable_ , Scott,” that pseudo-offended tone he loved so much entering her voice.

“So you’re okay with us maybe getting married eventually? Because I’m definitely gonna ask again if you are. If you’re not, I won’t, but I think I can do it better.”

Hope leaned back against her pillow, staring at him. But finally, a smile teased around her lips. “There’s a fairly good chance I might, so you might as well try someday. Sooner rather than later, I imagine.” She leaned forward, kissed him again, let it linger a little longer, and pulled away to scoot down under the blankets.

Scott grinned and stood, stretched. He winced at the number of joints that popped. “Better be sooner that you say yes, I’m getting old.” He walked toward the doorway as she laughed, barely more than a breath, but it definitely counted as the fifth laugh in the past few months. It caused a spring in his step that made him turn around again almost immediately, hand reaching for his jacket pocket and mouth opening. Before he could say anything, she interrupted.

“If you _dare_ take that ring box out and toss it at me and say ‘is now too soon?’ I will get out of this bed and murder you. We will be _done_. And you’ll be dead.”

He pouted with the box in his hand but didn’t throw it at her. He did have some level of self-respect. Also he was too scared of what would happen if Janet found out that he’d thrown her mother’s diamond-and-ruby ring across the room. Probably nothing, but what if. “Wanna get hitched?”

“ _Scott Edward Harris Lang_.”

“I will take that as a ‘get out of my face now, you moron.’ A command which I shall obey.” He tucked the box back in his pocket, taking a moment to relish the grin that she wasn’t quite able to hold back. He turned away toward his chest of drawers because pajamas, but almost immediately whirled back to glare at her. “How do you know my most guarded secret? Not even _Cassie_ knows that I have two middle names!”

Hope only smiled. And he fell more in love with her than ever. But honestly? That happened every day.


	3. Concussions

Scott could never decide if he liked being Ant-Man or not. On the one hand, awesome suit, awesome powers, awesome way to help out the world. On the other hand, he had to fight people. This normally wasn’t too bad, because he was decent at fighting. His girlfriend had filled in the gaps in his fight knowledge that prison had left open, and basically the two of them together were fantastic. They would probably win every fight.

“Hey, you! Stop burning the freaking buildings!” Oh yeah. Someone had gotten ahold of some leftover alien tech and was trying to capture a small city with it. Normal Tuesday, but the rest of the Avengers were dealing with similar matters all around the globe. They really should have cleaned up from the fight with Thanos a little faster, because apparently someone had gotten to the scene and stolen stuff and sold it to all the terrorist-wannabes around the world.

“Make me,” one called back.

“If you don’t stop, we’ll have to make you stop,” Hope added as an aside to him from her own three-against-one fight. She was coming out on top, no doubt about it. He had the coolest girlfriend ever.

They bantered through the battle, mostly just _ouch_ and _are you okay_ and _I think that man has a mullet_ and _Scott that’s a woman_ and _wow I did not get that. Is it weird to be glad that not all the villains are male_ and _yeah that is kind of weird_ and _I figured it was but I had to ask_ and _Scott that man has a grenade, get out of the way now_ and—

Explosion.

When Scott managed to get his head to stop spinning long enough to look around and consider standing, the first thing he saw was the bad guys collapsed in a shaking pile. Apparently, the alien tech really hadn’t appreciated the grenade.

The next thing he saw was Hope, sprawled out ten feet away. He crawled to her side, alarms going off in his head, blaring almost as loud as the ringing in his ears. He got to her side and pulled her into his arms. He could barely hear himself begging her to stay with him. Finally her eyes flickered, just slightly.

He acknowledged that he was yelling just as the police appeared. “Stay awake, Hope! Come on, baby, you’re gonna be okay, it’s okay, it’s not really all that much blood. Open your eyes, Hope.” Her eyes opened all the way before squinting closed again against the light. “Hey, baby, we’re gonna get married, okay? When you get all patched up. We’re gonna get married this time.” She snorted before flinching away from her own head. He kept mumbling as his own head started to throb.

“Scott, the ambulance is here,” a voice called in his ear. “Let me have her, okay, buddy? Come on, Scott.” He turned just enough to let Paxton scoop Hope up, following them into the ambulance in a walk that resembled nothing so much as a drunken stumble.

He was pretty sure his head was going to explode, but Hope was okay. She was going to be okay. Paxton pushed the actual EMTs away and pulled oxygen masks over both of their faces. Blood was soaking the pillow beneath Hope’s head. Her eyes were closed again, but her hand was squeezing his back.

And that was the last thing he remembered before he disappeared into darkness again. He really hoped that Paxton or someone caught him before he hit the ambulance floor. That would suck.

* * *

He woke up in a hospital bed, an IV in his arm, with one question in his mind. “Is Hope okay?”

Paxton stood at the foot of his bed, arm around Cassie. Cassie pulled out of his embrace and threw herself on top of him. “Cassie…” Paxton tried. Scott squeezed Cassie back as tight as he could, mentally begging Paxton to just go ahead and tell him. He got the message. “Scott, Hope’s in that bed over there. She’s got a really bad concussion, but they say she’ll be fine.”

Cassie immediately pulled away and pointed toward the bed. “She’s fine, Daddy, see?”

Scott ripped his IV out—Cassie and Paxton started to protest but stopped almost immediately—and he stumbled over to Hope’s bed. Of course, his arm started bleeding. “My arm’s bleeding.”

“You pulled the IV needle out, buddy. That’s not how it works.” Paxton handed him a wad of tissues and he pressed it to his cool new wound. Just kidding. It wasn’t cool.

What also wasn’t cool was the fact that Hope had almost died. “Did any of the bad guys get away?”

“We got them. They’re in jail until they heal enough for trial.”

Scott nodded, still not taking his eyes off Hope’s face. They hadn’t gotten all of the blood out of her hair. Cassie sat down next to him. “She’s gonna be fine, Dad. She looks so much better already.”

He nodded again. It really didn’t help the fact that she had tubes in her nose and IVs for blood and what he guessed was pain management. “How much blood did she lose?” He really didn’t know why he was asking. Oh, right, masochism and guilt complex. That was why he was actually an Avenger, it was like a prerequisite to joining the team.

“Not much, that’s just a precaution. The explosion was barely two hours ago, so she hasn’t had it long.”

Just as Scott leaned down to kiss her forehead, disregarding the presence of daughter and daughter’s step-dad, Janet and Hank burst in. “How is she?” Hank asked gruffly.

“She’s fine,” Paxton said, moving to get in between Hank and Scott. Scott made a mental note to do something nice for Paxton when he and Hope were freed. “Just a bad concussion.”

Cassie stood and hugged Janet before Janet sat down on the bed next to Scott. “Oh, my baby,” she whispered. With those three words Scott noticed all the little scratches on Hope’s hands and the fact that she was still paper-pale. “I know what you’re doing, Scott. Stop it.”

“It’s not your fault, Scott,” Hank said. Scott took his eyes off Hope and stared at her father.

“What did you say? You’re not murdering me for letting Hope get hurt?”

Hank snorted and Janet sighed. “Like you could have stopped her from doing what she wanted.”

Scott exhaled sharply. “You have a point.” The room started spinning and he almost fell over—maybe he had a concussion too, that would be cool, he hadn’t had one of those since the second week of prison when he mouthed off and got knocked out—so Janet helped him back to his own bed. The rest of Janet and Hank’s visit was a blur, and when he woke up again Maggie was standing over him. “Hey, Mags.”

“Hey, Scott.” The bright lights got him for a second and he closed his eyes again, but Maggie shook his arm until he opened his eyes again. “Jim said that you have a concussion and the doctor sent me in to wake you up.”

He did the smallest nod possible. “How’s Hope?”

“Maggie got me up first,” a voice rasped from the corner. Scott jumped up and Maggie helped him over to Hope’s bed. “Apparently I’m more hurt.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Scott whispered into her palm. He tried to ignore the _aww_ from Maggie a few feet away.

Hope almost shrugged. “It was my fault, I was the one who didn’t want to wait for anyone else to help. When can we get out of here, Maggie?”

“The doctor says later today, probably. You’re both fine aside from the concussions and Hope’s stitches, which Jim can probably take out instead of coming back here. Cassie’s going to stay at your place for a while to keep you both awake.”

“It’ll be like when we’re old,” Scott muttered. “Cassie taking care of us, giving us our meds, making sure we don’t fall and break our hips.” Hope sighed her annoyance at being babysat but squeezed his hand. They just stared at each other for a minute, both of them glancing each other over for injuries.

“I’ll leave you two alone, then. The doctor’ll come in for a final check-up and discharge paperwork soon.” Maggie stepped out the door but almost immediately ran back in. “Oh! Jim said that you proposed!”

“What?” Scott and Hope said in unison. Then Scott’s memories came back. “ _Oh_.” He turned to Hope and grinned.

“It doesn’t count if I don’t remember it.” He tried to interrupt her, but she held a hand up. “New rule. You’re not proposing when we’re in the hospital. Or when I’m hurt. No deathbed proposals.”

Scott and Maggie sighed. But Scott really couldn’t care; at least she was alive. He instantly hated that _deathbed proposal_ phrase. He leaned forward and kissed her to get that image out of his head. Just before Maggie left the room, she said, “I expect to be there for the actual proposal! I have to take pictures!”

They sat there for a moment in silence, Scott’s thumb tracing over Hope’s knuckles. Finally Hope spoke. “Why is your ex so enthusiastic about us?”

“…Who knows.”


	4. Cassie

Scott knew he was being a bit ridiculous, but he couldn’t help it. For once, he felt like being dramatic was something he was owed.

They’d been on a romantic dinner, no thoughts of bad guys or anything, the darkness of the snap completely disappearing from Hope’s eyes, her concussion basically gone, and the wine was actually good—and he hadn’t been able to focus on any of it because some bearded wonder kept staring at Hope.

“I just don’t think you meant it, Scott,” Hope said as she breezed past him into the house.

He stomped after her, helped her with her coat, and closed the door behind them. “For goodness’ sake, Hope, that was the _fourth_ time I’ve proposed to you! I’m sure I _meant_ it!”

“You looked more jealous than ridiculously in love—”

He followed her to the couch and plopped down next to her, just enough space between them to express his displeasure at the events of the night. “The ring was already in my coat pocket! Waiting for the opportune moment! It’s been in my pocket for _weeks_. Basically since the concussions!” Hope rolled her eyes, leaned into the corner of the couch, and stretched her legs out onto his lap, wiggling her feet until he understood her silent meaning. “And now you want me to take your shoes off and rub your feet? The _expectations_ placed on me tonight.”

“In Daddy’s defense—” Scott jumped. He hadn’t known that Cassie was even home, and it looked like Hope hadn’t either, the consternation clear on her face. They tried to not argue in front of her, even though she didn’t remember him and Maggie arguing before he was carted off to jail the first time. But none of the four of the co-parents wanted to bring that back. “His resting face is just _ridiculously in love with Hope Van Dyne_ now.” Judging by Cassie’s absolute face-splitting grin, she didn’t care that they were arguing.

Scott did not understand teenage girls.

Hope shrugged infinitesimally, also expressing her confusion at the young folk, and Scott fell in love with her all over again. Then she shrugged properly, managing to poke one of her heels into his side with the motion. He winced, considered howling about it, and decided to be manly. “I think you only proposed because that guy kept staring at me. And because he was handsome.” Cassie hummed thoughtfully, apparently not upset on her father’s behalf.

He glanced down at Hope’s shoes. Oh, ouch. That’s why her calves looked even more fantastic than usual and why she’d been taller than him. Those heels were like six inches tall. “I mean—maybe—a little—but he kept staring! And you smiled at him!” He found the buckle on the side of the shoe, struggled to remove it from Hope’s foot, and placed it carefully on the floor, followed by the second one. He was already being yelled at; he didn’t care to add _dropped the expensive heel on the ground_ to the list.

Hope leaned a bit out of the corner of the couch toward him and grinned, leaving her feet on Scott’s lap. Scott didn’t really like the grin. It was too… knowing. And willing to side with the daughter. He would have shrunk away except that would have looked awful. “Jealousy is not a good reason to get married, Scott.”

Cassie shook her head, also very willing to side with the other woman. “She’s right, Daddy. How many times have all four of you said that to me? _Don’t get married unless you really, really, really love the person_ ,” she said in an imitation of Maggie that made him shudder and Hope laugh. She sat down on the coffee table and leaned forward. She looked too much like a therapist for Scott’s taste. “Time to take your own advice.”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Of course I love Hope—you!” He scooted closer to Hope on the couch and took her hand. It was her left hand, of course, and he wished again that ring was on her finger. Even if just so that gorgeous man would have stopped staring. Mostly because he wanted to marry her more than anything. But also because that man had been really pretty and he just— “I love you more than basically everything! You _know_ that.” Hope smiled softly.

Cassie rolled her eyes. “ _Except Cassie_ , you’re thinking, but please stop, that’s ridiculous.” She patted his shoulder with something he had to call condescension. Who knew they were old enough to have a father-daughter relationship with such rudeness?

Hope released his hand to pat his cheek, chiming in with “Except Cassie, because I love Cassie more than you too.”

He didn’t take the time to acknowledge that there—he’d just fallen in love again. How many times could a man fall in love with a woman on the same night? “I’ve already proposed three times before tonight! And none of those other ones were because of jealousy or something ridiculous.”

“Really?” Cassie turned to Hope, both of them ignoring him. “Aww, thank you, Hope, you’re my favorite parent now!” Hope’s eyes shone and Scott’s stomach flipped. This was Hope’s first time as Favorite Parent, he was pretty sure.

He tried to get them back on topic, despite his glee at the confirmation that Cassie adored Hope. “Not many more ways to show that I love you than by proposing _multiple times_!”

“Well, it clearly hasn’t stuck yet, and I don’t remember the second time because of the concussion,” Hope said brightly. “Also, did you hear that? I’m Cassie’s favorite parent now.”

“It’s not like I’m in control of whether it sticks or not, Ms. Van Dyne, _I’m_ the one doing the asking. You get the choice as to whether the proposal _sticks_. Peanut, you know what Paxton’s going to do when he hears he’s gone down in the list.”

Paxton had kept Favorite Parent for two weeks now, since he’d let Cassie go to the movies with some friends for the first time since the reverse-snap. The rest of them had been too clingy, she said, and Paxton had been so overjoyed that he was Favorite Parent that he made a cake.

“Maybe I’ll say yes next time, honey,” Hope said, leaning forward enough that he could wrap his arm around her and pull her in for some sort of awkward couch hug.

“Jim will deal with losing the spot,” Cassie said drily, sounding uncomfortably like Hope. “He’ll only cry for a second. Mom will let you punch him, Hope, if he complains at dinner on Friday.” She stood and stretched, patted both of their heads, and skipped out of the living room. Scott sighed, tapping Hope’s leg until she moved her feet from his lap. Just when he was about to pull her closer for a proper hug, Cassie’s voice rang out from the doorway. “Propose better next time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> -  
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> in case you're confused by the style of this chapter, it's slightly different because i wrote this section about a year ago and didn't change anything when i edited this last week. it's still my favorite chapter too. oh well.


	5. Avengers

In their defense, they didn’t mean to get into trouble. They usually didn’t. Scott’s only really truly chased trouble a few times, probably the first of which was robbing Hank’s house, another was actually falling in love with Hope, another of which was getting purposefully sucked into the quantum realm for fun.

He decided not to think about that just now. It certainly didn’t have the pain of before, the five years of everything getting tinier and tinier, but it was nothing but distracting.

The bad guy of the hour had appeared out of nowhere, clad in a metal suit that made him look like what would have happened if they’d tried to make an Iron Man suit in the 80s. Unfortunately, this one was fitted with huge guns with age-appropriate fusion capabilities.

He and Hope flitted around the suit, shrinking and growing as usual, punching and shooting and firing as usual. They’d thought it was just a run-of-the-mill robbery, but when the man emerged from the power plant with even more powerful weaponry, Hope had screamed, “He’s collecting energy from the plant somehow!” and that had started Scott’s headache.

Hope had agreed to give him point on the mission for once, which meant that he got to order her to go into the power plant to figure out how to shut it down or at least prevent Metal Man from getting any more advancements that he really didn’t need, while he got to play an airborne version of Whac-a-Mole.

“What do you even want?” he called out at the metal suit. He couldn’t rightfully call the bad guy a _guy_ yet; he hadn’t seen his face.

He narrowly avoided a punch and shrunk again, skittering over the metal man and searching for somewhere to infiltrate the suit. “I seek to destroy the remaining Avengers,” the suit proclaimed in the definition of a monotone.

“Well, I’m honored you’re calling me and Hope Avengers since that is true and very few people acknowledge it, but you’d find more interesting ones further north,” Scott muttered to himself as he finally found a crack in the armor. “We’re really very boring. We just have cool suits.”

“Scott,” Hope said in his ear, “I don’t know where he’s getting the extra power. _Please_ be careful out there! And don’t tell the metal man about our tech, that’s just stupid.”

“Don’t worry, honey, I’m being careful!” Huh, he couldn’t find the power source of the suit. Didn’t seem to be a human in there at all. Which was pretty creepy, and it proved his prediction of the technological revolution—this is why he didn’t let Cassie get an Alexa thing and had refused to let the next advances of it from the five years into his and Hope’s new house—until he found the command center.

Hope groaned. “You’re in the suit, aren’t you? I’m coming to help.”

“Hope, I’ve got it—” He broke through a few crucial-looking glowing cords. Immediately the suit started heating up at an unexpected rate. “Ooh, getting out of here now, I think the suit’s gonna blow. You be careful too, honey.” He punched a path straight out of the suit and found himself in the bright sunlight again.

“You have only scratched the surface of my mechanisms,” the suit declared. “You cannot hope to defeat me!” Just as Scott was growing again with the intention of running away as quickly as possible—Antoni II was getting fired for this, not being around when needed—he felt a great burning in his side and a wetness that could only be blood.

As he fell to the ground conveniently normal-Scott-sized, he saw the suit lower its gun. _Ah, crap_ , he thought. Hope was going to kill him if the blood loss didn’t do it first.

He saw, just barely, Hope fly in and start growing. She grew enough to pick him up (which was a _weird_ feeling) and run out of the way of the explosion.

Scott felt himself being set lightly on the ground again and his helmet fly off his face. Hope knelt before him, tears in her eyes, hands pressing his side painfully. “Scott, don’t do this to me, please no—”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he managed. The sky was turning sort of black around him, and he was suddenly pretty sure that too much blood was pouring from him. Gross. Also embarrassing—surviving Thanos’ army and being sent to the past and future multiple times and going to the _quantum realm_ but being defeated by a metal suit? Ouch. He would never live it down. So he decided to add one more (potentially) embarrassing thing. “Hey, Hope, marry me?”

Her eyes widened and he really wanted to hear her response, because it was probably going to be either a bitingly clever no or a yes, either of which he would have liked to hear since he always liked hearing her voice. Instead, the blackness of the sky took over his vision, and he drifted away. The last thing he heard was Hope’s scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> to be continued in part 6.


	6. (Proposal)

“Scott, you have to wake up, come on, please wake up.” Hope’s voice sounded like she was talking through a metal tube in really thick fog.

He felt himself being carried through the air in a thoroughly-disconcerting not-on-the-back-of-an-ant way before the pain in his stomach took over.

He managed a grimace that he hoped looked like a smile before he passed out again.

* * *

“I swear to God, Scott, if you don’t wake up soon—” Hope’s voice, only slightly wavering, was replaced by Cassie’s.

“Come on, Daddy, wake up,” she whispered. “You have to come back to us.”

He felt Hope’s kiss on his forehead and heard other concerned voices in the background. This time, he definitely managed to smile before the waves of unconsciousness took him back under.

* * *

Scott woke up again. Which was cool, he wasn’t sure he was going to do that after hearing the genuine fear in Hope’s voice last time. He assessed his condition before he opened his eyes—slightly less than searing pain in his side, nicely hammering headache, and general soreness—to find a hand in his.

A certain hand that was wearing a certain ring. “Hope?” he rasped.

Hope sprang straight up, pressing closer to the hospital bed. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and it looked like she hadn’t slept in a week. Before he could move, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his in a kiss that he would prefer never ended. As most kisses do because mankind does still depend on air for survival, it ended, and Hope pulled back just enough to glare at him. “If you ever do that again—”

“I will never get shot in the side and lose a lot of blood and almost die again,” he assured. It was a stupid promise, but it was one he decided to keep. Then he moved on to important matters. “Now, why are you wearing the ring I keep in my jacket pocket?”

Hope glanced down at her hand and rolled her eyes, but in the kind of way he adored. “I decided to start wearing it, whether you woke up or not. Which, by the way, you flat-lined twice, so that was actually a concern. You _actually_ dying.”

“That did not answer my question. But… did Paxton cry when I died?”

Hope glared. “We all cried except Hank, but that’s just because he’s only cried once in the past twenty years, and he and Mom weren’t here yet. As for why I’m wearing it…” She took a deep breath, one that Scott suddenly wished he could imitate. The binding on his side was not allowing it, and the nervous look in her eyes was making him sweat. “Marry me?”

Scott just stared for a second. Maybe squeezed her hand a little tighter. “You said no more deathbed proposals.”

Hope pulled her hand from his just gently enough that she didn’t scratch him with the rocks. It was even more sparkly than he remembered, a ruby on either side of a bigger diamond. He thought it looked nice, and seeing it on her hand was confirmation. “I meant _you_ couldn’t propose to _me_ when I was in the hospital. But I can’t do that again, Scott, I can’t watch you die again. Not without you knowing exactly what you mean to me.”

“This is better than my proposals.”

“Damn straight it is,” Hope muttered, a smile finally cracking through her glare. “So, will you marry me?” Scott stared up at her for a moment. How was it possible, that he had managed to get such a beautiful thing as her to fall in love with him? “I really don’t look good right now, don’t lie,” she said.

Ah, he’d said that out loud. Funny how the longer he was awake the more the pain medicine seemed to work. “You look amazing. You always do. You’re always the best thing I’ve ever seen. And yes, I will marry you.” Hope smiled, at least one tear forming in the corner of her eye, and he felt his own face splitting with the force of his grin. “I love—”

Her kiss cut him off. Which was more than fine, since he was probably just going to keep saying sappy things and never stop. Which he was also fine with. She deserved all of it.

Eventually Hope pulled herself away, pointing out that Cassie probably should be allowed to see her dad alive and awake before the morphine pulled him back under. By the time Cassie and the rest of the family appeared, he was just awake to grin and say “Hey guys!” and grunt painfully when Cassie threw herself on top of him.

“Cassie—” Hope, Maggie, and Paxton started in unison. Cassie had the good grace to immediately pull away from him and look guilty, although he really didn’t care. Just as long as she didn’t break his stitches.

“Hey, it’s okay, Peanut,” he said, trying not to slur. “Sorry I almost died, guys, although that wasn’t really my fault… did you ever figure out what that big metal thing was?” They shook their heads. Oh well. One of life’s new mysteries. “Also Hope proposed! So we’re getting married now.” Something horrifying occurred to him as Maggie squealed in an ungodly pitch, Paxton hugged Hope, and Cassie screeched her joy to the ceiling. He batted around for his fiancée’s hand. “Hope, Hope, _Hope_.”

Hope stepped closer and brushed her hand over his cheek. “What is it?”

“Your dad’s going to kill me.”

“Why?”

There were so many reasons, but a new one came to his fuzzy mind as he opened his mouth again. “Well, come to think of it, I never really asked permission.”

“You didn’t need to and I’m glad you didn’t.”

Scott rolled his eyes until he was pretty sure they were going to roll out of his head and Hope was going to have to catch them. Gross. “ _I_ know that, but he didn’t. But also they had to cut me out of the suit, right?” Hope gave a cautious nod. “That’s his life’s work!”

“He’s not gonna care, babe.”

The morphine started taking over at an alarming rate. “But what if he does?”

“I promise he won’t care.” The rest of the family disappeared over the next few minutes, hugging him _goodbye for now_ and _have a good nap_ and _I love you so much and thanks for not dying_ , until Hope was the only one left in the room.

“Hey, Hope. Hope. Hope. _Hope_.”

“What is it?”

The morphine grabbed his brain. “I love you.”

Hope’s response was lost in the blackness of drug-induced sleep.

* * *

His dreams were pleasant blurs of the quantum realm (which was weirdly peaceful when he knew he could get out of it) and Hope and flying on Antoni III’s back. When he woke up, his only question was how he knew that it was Antoni III in the dream.

“Hope?” he asked, his eyes still shut. His side didn’t hurt too much. Cool.

“Yeah, Scott?”

“Can we make name tags for the ants? I want to know which Antoni I’m on at any given point without having to remember that Antoni II is 567 and Antoni III is 687 and Antoni IV is 845 and Antoni V is—”

“Sounds like you don’t need the name tags after all,” Hope said. He finally opened his eyes and she was sitting in the chair next to his bed with a book on her lap. The ring sparkled just a little in the light.

He sighed. She was awfully pretty. The headache from the light and fight was more than worth it. “Personalization, Hope. Personalization.”

“Okay, we’ll figure out name tags.” He reached his hand toward hers and she laced her fingers through his. He breathed in the weird hospital smell and a tiny bit of Hope’s favorite lotion.

“Together?”

Hope leaned forward and they just stared at each other for a minute. Scott had a feeling that Cassie would have been _aww_ -ing a few seconds in and _eww_ -ing a moment later. It was the best, knowing that he could still predict his daughter’s thoughts. He focused on the feeling of the ring on Hope’s finger again, pressed between his own.

“Always,” she murmured before kissing him.

Best. Life. _Ever_.


End file.
